A/N: From a gifset I found on tumblr. Someone wanted a fic, I did my best to write one. No beta, so any errors are mine, and I apologize. Enjoy!

Steve sits at the bar, watching the light play across the empty glass he is turning over in his hands as he tried not to think. The bartender comes over and takes the glass from him, refilling it before handing it back. "On the house. Looks like you need it."

Steve tries to smile in thanks, but it comes out as more of a grimace, so he drains the glass instead. "Thanks. I just wish it helped." The bartender clasps his shoulder tightly for a moment and gives him a sad smile before moving away to serve another customer. Steve lets out a sigh, resting his head on his free hand.

"Careful there, big guy." A hand settles on his shoulder, and Steve jumps, squeezing the glass so hard it shatters. He stares numbly at the blood welling up around a large shard embedded in his palm. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was just about to tell you that you ought to watch out or you'll break that glass." A pair of large hands enter his vision, tracing gently over his palm and probing at the shard before tugging it out and pressing a clean handkerchief to the sluggishly bleeding gash. "Looks like I was too late. Are you okay?"

Steve tears his gaze away from his hand and looks up into a pair of the bluest eyes he's ever seen. "Uh, sorry. What did you say?"

The skin around those eyes crinkles as the man smiles. "I asked if you were okay, friend. Have you had a bit too much tonight?"

"Oh. No, no, I'm fine. This'll heal soon, and…" He laughs, the sound strained and humorless. "I can't actually get drunk. So yeah, I'm all right."

The stranger studies him carefully for a few moments, then he tugs Steve to his feet. "Just because you're physically okay doesn't mean you're okay. Walk with me." He begins to lead the way out of the bar, half-turning back to shake Steve's free hand. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you." The air outside the bar is chilly but completely still, without a breeze to stir the many flags set up around the army's latest camp.

Jack lets them walk in silence for a while, leading Steve over to a tree a short distance off the path and sitting down under it, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back against the trunk. Then he finally speaks up, glancing over at Steve to gage his reaction. "So. Wanna tell me about it?"

"About what?"

"Whatever's got you so upset that you spent the past hour in that place trying your damndest to get drunk."

Steve shrugs. "Not really."

Jack sighs. "Okay, then. If you change your mind, just let me know. Until then, it's a nice night. We might as well stay out here a little longer."

Steve watches Jack out of the corner of his eyes for a couple minutes, then hesitantly, he starts to speak. "It was…my….his name was Bucky."

Jack doesn't respond, just nods to show that he's listening, and suddenly it's as if a dam has broken and all the words come tumbling out of Steve's mouth, and he just can't make it stop. "He was my best friend, you know? And when he told me he was joining the army, I was proud of him. I wanted to join too, but they wouldn't let me, and then I got in with this experiment, but he got captured, and I found him, got him out, and all the rest of them, they came home, and we were a team again, just like before. Fighting together, and we were doing great things, all the Commandos, and he was always right there for me. He was always here when I needed to talk, when I needed help, or advice, or ANYTHING. He was just there. And then he had to go and do something STUPID and try to save me! Why the HELL did he try to save me? And now, because he thought he had to protect me, he's gone. Bucky's gone, dead, he'll never be here again, and it's all my fault, and I just keep thinking I could've stretched a little farther, moved faster, done SOMETHING to save him, but I couldn't, I didn't, I wasn't strong enough, and if only I'd been better, maybe he'd still be here. I should've caught him, I should've saved him, but I didn't, and now he's gone. He's just…gone…" Steve trails off, the words dying away, and finally, he lets himself cry for his lifelong friend. Jack pulls the other man into an embrace, staying silent until Steve finally pulls away, wiping his eyes hastily. "Sorry. You didn't need to hear that, you probably don't care, I didn't mean to do that to you."

Jack shrugs, smiling faintly. "It's okay. That's kinda why I came to talk to you in the first place. You looked like you had something big you needed to get out there and talk about, and I'm a pretty good listener when I want to be."

"Yeah, but…I don't even know you, and here I am telling you about all my problems. It doesn't really seem fair."

"Did you cry for him? I don't mean just now. Earlier, or when he died, did you let yourself sit down and grieve?"

"I…well, no. I mean…I couldn't. Not in front of the men. I can't do that to them," Steve answers. "They're having enough trouble dealing with losing one of their own."

"Well, that doesn't seem fair to me, either, so I figure it's pretty much evened out now. You take care of them, but you don't have anyone to take care of you anymore. I just figured maybe I'd fill in for now. Do you feel better?"

Steve considers for a moment, and then nods. "A little. I mean, it still hurts. I miss him, and I just wish…I wish it could've been different. But I guess maybe I did need to talk about it. Thanks."

Jack's smile is wider this time. "You're welcome. Any time. And I do mean that, by the way. You're welcome to talk to me whenever you need it. I'll be around. Even Captain America can't be strong forever without a little help now and then."

"How'd you get so smart?"

The other man's expression turns a little bit wistful for a moment. "Oh, I had a friend…smartest man I ever knew. Stupid sometimes, but always brilliant. He showed me a lot, taught me more about the universe than I ever thought possible. I'm just doing my best to pay it forward." Abruptly he shifts, changing the subject and turning to face Steve more fully. "So. Tell me about yourself. Not the load of crap they spew on TV, I want to know about you. Steve Rogers."

"Oh…Steve Rogers really isn't that interesting, I promise. I mean, I was just a scrawny kid who liked to draw before the whole super-soldier experiment. If the war hadn't happened, I sort of wanted to go to art school…"

The two men talk for what seems like hours, sitting under the tree, until finally Jack glances up at the sky and starts. "Oh, I am so sorry, I've kept you out WAY past your bedtime, Steve. Sun's gonna be coming up soon."

Steve follows Jack's gaze, surprised. "Huh. What do you know?" He stands then holds out a hand, which Jack takes and holds for just a bit too long once he's on his feet. "Thanks for that. I mean, you didn't have to stay out all night with me, but…I appreciate it. I didn't realize how much I just needed to TALK to someone, about Bucky, and just about…nothing. It felt good. You're a lifesaver. Really. It means a lot."

"No trouble, my friend. Just try to stay out of trouble. I've got work to do today, but maybe we can meet up for drinks tomorrow?"

Steve shakes his head regretfully. "I can't. The commandos are heading out on another mission tonight. Not sure when we'll be back. This is a big one. We're going after Hydra's main base, and hopefully Johann Schmidt himself."

"I see. Okay, then. You'll just have to promise me a victory celebration when you come back,"Jack replies, grinning.

Steve returns his smile easily. "You've got a deal, Captain Harkness. I'll come find you the minute we get back to camp."

"You had better." Jack hesitates for just one second before muttering under his breath. "Oh, screw it." He leans forward and plants a quick kiss on Steve's lips, throwing a wink and a wave back over his shoulder as he starts walking away. "See you soon, super soldier!"

Steve stands there until Jack is out of sight, one hand coming up to touch his lips gently. Then he smiles, shakes his head, and turns away, hurrying back to camp to gather his Howling Commandos for one last meeting before they are deployed.

When the camp hears the news of the plane going down with Steve Rogers piloting, everyone is silent, shocked and grieving. One man sits in a corner of the bar, nursing a whiskey and wishing fervently for a few hyper-vodkas as he watches the seat where a certain super-soldier had tried to drown his own sorrows only a few days ago.

Steve wakes up alone, hearing the sounds of an old baseball game and knowing that something is wrong. He breaks free of the room they've put him in, barely faltering at the strange sights around him. His only thoughts are of escape, of getting home, and of keeping a promise, and he's determined to get away from the people who are holding him captive until he can figure out what the hell is happening. When he gets outside, though, he has to stop, stunned by the flashing lights, strangely dressed people, cars zooming by, all the strange sights, sounds and smells. It's a little bit familiar, and yet everything is so vastly different that he just can't seem to find his footing in the madness. When Fury explains things to him, his first thought is that it all makes sense, why it's so different. Things were bound to change as people learned and grew, and all this insanity had to have a logical answer. Then it hit him. Seventy years. It wasn't just the scenery that had changed. All his friends, if they were even still alive, were probably feeble, old, in nursing homes or hospitals, and here he was, the same as he'd been all that time ago, young, strong and healthy. What would Dugan think of him now? Or Fallsworth? Or…Jack. Oh, God. He'd missed that date, and he'd never come back to camp. He'd broken another promise. Fury asked him if he was all right, and Steve thought he answered, but he couldn't be sure. As he looked around at the city that was suddenly a stranger, he thought he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Steve? Steve Rogers? Is that you?"

He whirls around to see Captain Jack Harkness, looking just like the day he'd left and grinning widely as he hurries toward the newly awakened super-soldier. "So they really did find you. After all this time…it's so good to see you again."

"Jack? But…how? You're…what's going on here?" Steve asks.

"It's a really long story. I'll tell you all about it later, hot stuff, I promise, but for now, there's something I've been waiting an awful long time for, and I don't intend to wait any longer."

And then, before Steve can protest, Jack pulls him into an embrace and kisses him soundly, right in the middle of Times Square. Steve's brain is clamoring at him to pull away, to say something, to demand an explanation, but he stubbornly ignores it, resolving to ask all of his questions and sort things out later. For now, it seemed like he wasn't too late for his date, and that's what was really important after all, right?

A/N: Review? Thanks!